


"Why do you love snow so much?" "Why do you not?"

by Fangirlcraze



Category: Les Misérables (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Snow, enjolras knows jack about snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-16 01:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5807470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirlcraze/pseuds/Fangirlcraze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras never thought knowledge of snow would come in handy, but after a crazy blizzard sweeping throughout the east coast,  he realizes he may need some help clearing everything out. Unfortunately, everyone else is snowed in besides the apparent king of snow, Grantaire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Why do you love snow so much?" "Why do you not?"

Enjolras huffed as he stared out the window. The whole neighborhood was inside, not even bothering to deal with the heavy blanket of snow outside. He was contemplating venturing out into the snow, to try and retrieve his car, but it seemed impossible. He couldn't even tell which car was his. He tried calling up Combeferre, but he was set on not going outside today.

"It's too dangerous. Especially for you. Without a snowblower of some sort, you'll give yourself a heart attack shoveling." He had said at about 6:15 that morning. Of course he had been up.

"I'm 22 Ferre, not 42."

"You also have no winter apparel."

"I have a jacket and a hat."

"You'll get pneumonia before you reach the end of the sidewalk." Enjolras growled a little bit back at him. "Besides, the air is dry and even if you were bundled up, without any other help, you'll pass out from asphyxiation before you get to your car."

"Then come help me."

"Enjolras, I get your determination, I really do. But no one is going to be doing anything today. Nothing is going to be open, you'd be better off staying inside. Just take the day and relax. Take a bath, read some classic literature, plan an 1830s French revolution. Just take the day off. Okay?"

Enjolras sighed. "Fine."

After hanging up, he immediately called Courfeyrac. To which it went to voicemail. He called again. After about 5 rings, someone finally picked up.

"Courf! Hey, do you think you could come over and help m-"

"No." Courf blurted out, his voice groggy, and Enjolras couldn't help but feel like he just woke him up.

"But, you didn't even know what I was gonna-"

"You want me to come over and help you shovel, but I'm sorry man, I'm not one for snow. I grew up in Florida. I'd rather stay inside and sleep all day. I'd say the same for you."

"Come on, you know who I am. I can't just sit around and do nothing. There has to be at least someone you know who can help me. I'll even pay them." He was pleading now, as he heard Courf sigh over the phone.

"You're not going to like it."

"I don't care."

"Call up Grantaire."

Enjolras laughed. "Are you kidding? Is he even awake?"

"Look, he's lived all over. He knows snow like the back of his hand, and frankly, I think he gets off on it. He loves snow more than alcohol. Ask Joly."

"Like he would actually help me."

Now Courf laughed. "Are you kidding? The one thing he loves more than snow and alcohol is you. The kid admires you, it's almost embarrassing."

"Very funny, Courf."

"I'm not pullin' your leg, I'm serious. He'd literally do anything for you. You probably wouldn't even have to pay him. Call him up and I bet he'll already be outside."

"And what if he doesn't?"

Courf hummed. "Alright fine I'll make a deal with you. If 'Taire doesn't agree to come over, I'll come over and shovel your driveway and everything. I'll even make Ferre come, too." Enjorlas didn't doubt him. He once convinced Combeferre to buy everyone pizzas to celebrate the release of the new Kung Fu Panda movie.

"I don't know...."

"Call. Him. Now." Enjolras couldn't get another word in before Courf hung up. He cursed, and shook the phone in his hand.

He didn't want to call Grantaire. It's not that he hated the kid, he was just supremely aggravating. And he always seemed to annoy Enjolras on purpose. Which made him more mad. It was a never-ending vicious cycle. And it didn't matter what Enjolras called him, said to him, whatever. Nothing seemed to bother the kid. If only Enjolras could have that back. The life where nothing gets you down. Although, he wasn't considering taking up drinking. Not any time soon.

His thumb hovered over Grantaire's number saved in his phone. He's never called him, not once. He didn't even know why he kept the number saved. Maybe just for emergencies. He took a sip from the coffee mug in his hand. He glanced back out the window. White, glistening snow. Grantaire technically only lived a couple blocks over, but it was a more filled up street where he lived. He didn't even have his own driveway; he parked on the street. Did he really like him? Enjolras never considered that. He always considered the kindergarten style I-hate-you-but-I-love-you crush idiotic, and redundant. Basically just soccer moms fetishizing their kids. Although now, the thought of someone finding him attractive made him blush scarlet.

He tapped the phone screen and held the phone up to his ear as it rang. It rang twice before someone picked it up.

"Hello?" The voice was so obviously Grantaire's, but it didn't have the same hint of cynicism lurking through it.

"Are you out of breath? Why are you- have you been..?" Somehow, he felt like he had caught Grantaire at a compromising moment. Figures. Literally the only time he'd call and-

"What? No! Jesus, get your mind out of the gutter. I've been shoveling snow. What's up, Apollo?" Enjolras rolled his eyes at the nickname.

"I'm uh.... I haven't ever been in the middle of a blizzard before."

"Yea?"

"So... I don't- I'm not- I..." He ended the sentence with a disgruntled noise and he heard Grantaire chuckle on the other end. More eye-rolling.

"Can't get out of your house?"

He nodded before realizing the miscommunication in the gesture. "Yeah yeah, I can't. Combeferre said I'd get pneumonia before I even get off the porch. Courf won't even get out of bed. He said to call you."

"Ah yes, forward 'em to the snow king."

"Snow king?" Enjolras couldn't help but laugh. It sounded so ridiculous, yet so Grantaire.

"No, forget snow king, I am the snow MASTER!" There was a loud _clank_  in the background, that made Enjolras wince. "Sorry, I just broke like 4 icicles off of the house."

"Right. Okay, so do you think you could..."

"Come over and help dig you out?"

"Preferably without using those words."

"You got it, I'll be right over. Do you have snow boots?"

"Uh, no."

"Oh come on, I know France has gotten some snow at some point."

"Not enough that I'd need snow boots. This isn't Antartica."

"No, It's America." He sighed over the phone. "Alright, what are you wearing right now?"

His face went hot, "W-what?"

"No, not like that, you perv. Look, put on some jeans and that red hoodie you have and your jacket. A hat might be good too, but it's not really needed. It's not snowing anymore. And wear those combat boots you have. The grip on them will be helpful."

Enjolras was perplexed. How did he-? "Do you keep an index of my inventory? How do you know all of the things I own?"

"I take notice of things. I'd offer to bring some clothes over, but you're way too tall, with your weird spindly legs." Enjolras could practically hear Grantaire moving his fingers like a spider. He sighed. "Anyways, just get dressed, I'll be over soon."

"I..... Alright." Enjolras said and hung up.

 

When Grantaire had made it over, Enjolras was already trudging across his front porch. The sun was shining brightly, so it took quite a while for his eyes to adjust. But when they did, he was almost pleased at the sight. There was Grantaire, snuggled up in a black coat, with a dark green hat on his head, little strands of dark curly hair hanging out. He was smiling- not a grin or a smirk- he was generally smiling. "You look cozy." Grantaire said from the bottom of the steps.

Enjolras rolled his eyes as he walked down the steps. "Why am I not wearing a hat again?"

"Because you don't need one."

"But you have one."

"I have delicate ears." He touched his hands to his ears in a mock-hurt way. Enjolras rolled his eyes.

"Okay, so what am I supposed to do?" He's technically been in snow before. But in France it was only ever really less than an inch. Nothing he really needed more than a hoodie and sneakers to walk out in. Don't even ask him about thunderstorms.

Grantaire thrusted a snow shovel at him. "Shovel."

So they spent the next few hours shoveling the sidewalk. Every couple of minutes, Grantaire had to come back to where Enjolras was and help him. Enjolras absolutely hated it. He hated needing help. He hated shoveling snow. He hated snow. He stabbed the shovel into the big mountain of snow and brushed the snow off of his hands. His fingers were practically numb, they were so cold. Why did he never think of investing in mittens? What an idiot!

"I'm so investing in winter apparel after this." Enjolras said, rubbing his hands together to gain some warmth in them." He looked up. Where was Grantaire?

"'Taire? Where are you?" He sprinted over to where he last saw him across the driveway, only to find him laying in the snow. His jacket was unzipped and it splayed out to his sides. His worn out shirt was riding up on his stomach, showing enough skin that Enjolras had to look away. His eyes were closed and he seemed to look very... peaceful. Almost like a toddler that passed out after an crazy day of baking cookies and coloring pictures for the fridge. "What are you doing?"

Grantaire blinked his eyes open and squinted at what Enjolras presumed was the light from the sun. "I'm making a snow angel."

"A snow- what?"

Grantaire paused before standing back up to reveal a vague imprint of an angel in the snow. Enjolras raised an eyebrow at him. "What? You've never made a snow angel?"

"Uh yeah, maybe when I was six." Enjolras couldn't think of ever making a snow angel. It may sound sad, but he always thought it was petty. He was never a fan of snow.

"Snow is a timeless entertainment system." Grantaire said before he smirked and then snow came in contact with Enjolras' face.

He could hear Grantaire giggling, as he wiped his face off. "Very funny."

"Awe come on Enj, lighten up." Enjolras glared at him. Grantaire paused for a moment before taking another handful of snow in his hands, and Enjolras winced. What was this guy's problem? He braced himelf, but nothing came. He opened his eyes and saw Grantaire smiling with a face full of snow.

"See?" Grantaire said, white teeth shining as he spoke. "It's fun."

"It's cold." Enjolras crossed his arms.

"It's okay to be a little cold sometimes." Grantaire said. "Have some fun."

"Why do you love snow so much?" Enjolras said, kicking a snow block.

"Why do you not?"

"I don't know. It's cold and exhausting. And frankly, It's preventing me from doing the things I need to do."

"So?" Enjolras perked his head up at that. "No one can predict the weather. What would you do if it would have flooded? Or a hurricane swept through?" Enjolras shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "Maybe there was a reason we got a random blizzard. Maybe the universe is telling you to calm down and just take a break." Grantaire was flailing his arms about, almost shouting now. But not out of drunken craziness. He was ranting, quite passionately, too. "Stop working so hard ALL the time, Enjolras. You're 22. You're going to give yourself a heart attack before you're 30 if you don't just take a day every so often to relax. I know it's hard for you because you have some sort of thing set in your mind that you have to accomplish everything, but let yourself live a little while you're at it. Sure, when you're on your death bed, you'll be glad that you've done so much for everyone else, but what have you got to show for you've done for yourself? You don't have vacation photos, you don't have photos of you and your friends, I'm not even sure you have photos from France!"

"I don't need photographic evidence to prove I have fun." Enjolras huffed. Grantaire huffed, too. Enjolras had never seen him like this. Not only sober, but actually upset about something. Usually he just makes a bunch of jokes or just scowls in his drunken manner, but this... this is different.

"You're right. You don't." He watched as Grantaire shoved a hand under the collar of his coat and pulled out a thread necklace, a single bottle cap strung on it. "Now, I'm not one for sentiments, but this bottle cap came from the first rootbeer I had ever had. Ironically, the first drink I ever had in the US, but still. When my mom and i got off the plane, both of us were starving, and thirsty, and homeless. The guy that had offered her a job here had called her while we were on the plane and left a message that he changed his mind. So we thought, okay, we'll just find another one, right?" Enjolras wasn't sure where this was going, but he was intrigued. Grantaire never dared talk about his past. Everyone knew him and his mom had never been well off, and no one knew anything retaining to his father. "Well when we got to the house that we had planned to move into, there were 17 eviction notices and the door was locked. We were locked out of the house before we had even come to the country. We had nowhere to go. Luckily, the next door neighbors- Joly's family- were home and saw what was going on. They offered my mom and I to come inside and, I was 4 at the time, they offered her a glass of water and me a bottle of rootbeer." He held up the bottle cap in reference.

"Alright, but that was forced upon you. And how is that even fun? That sounds dreadful."

"Well, yeah it was, but this bottle cap doesn't represent the financial situation we were in. It represents the kindness and hospitality of Joly's parents, and every time I look at it, I am reminded that not everyone in this world is a self-centered asshole. That there are still kind-hearted people out there. That is not something you read in a book. That is a memory. That is living. Sometimes you need to be a little selfish, and relish in your memories." Grantaire was mildly attractive when he was arguing a point that was actually true. His eyebrows were furrowing like two caterpillars mating. Good thing Enjolras has perfected his poker face. Besides, Grantaire was right. Enjolras was too into his work. He blew off movies with Courf and Ferre the other night(mostly because he didn't feel like being a third-wheel). Whenever asked to come out for coffee, he always makes sure to bring enough paperwork to do, or a book. He the activist of the group, and yet the most social inept one.

"Okay."

Grantaire paused, puzzled. "Okay?"

"Yeah, You're right." Enjolras said. Grantaire let his arms fall to his sides. "You're right, Grantaire. I don't take enough time to enjoy the life that I have, and live it. And I really should. Thank you for finally getting that through to me."

Grantaire still looked shocked, but he nodded. "Uh yeah, okay. You're welcome, I thin-" Enjolras threw a handful of snow at him. He screamed and burst into laughter. "Oh my god!" He wiped the snow off of his face. Enjolras grinned at him. "Oh you're so in for it now, Apollo." Grantaire grabbed a handful of snow and threw it at him. This turned into a huge fluffy snow fight between the two, until Grantaire just kept throwing snow, and Enjolras didn't know what else to do other than pounce on him, them both falling into the snow. They both erupted into a fit of giggles, and Enjolras smiled more than he ever had. Not just for how happy he was himself, but for how happy he made Grantaire. Now that he had a good look at him, he could really tell that his smile was genuine. It wasn't cocky, or a grimace. He even had a small dimple in his left cheek making an appearance. His eyes were.... They were clear. Enjolras only saw him when he was drunk and cynical, when his eyes were dark and cold. But now, they were warm and.... beautiful. He practically melted in them. They were like hazel whirlpools, mixed on top of gold. His smile and his laugh were contagious. It felt so warm and comforting. Not to mention his clean shaven face. Yes, Enjolras always had a soft spot for smooth, baby faces, and it just so happened that there was one right here. His naturally tanned skin practically reflected the sunlight. Not to mention the red tint on his cheeks and nose. From the cold? He couldn't decide. And last but not least, his lips. They were so soft and tempting. Enjolras leaned in.  _Learn to live._

As soon as he locked his lips on Grantaire's, he had the sudden thought of 'this is not going to end well'. But surprisingly, it barely took a second before Enjolras realized Grantaire was kissing back.  _The kid admires you. It's almost embarrassing._ Grantaire was in love with him. How did it take him this long to fully realize? Did he not take anything that Courf had said seriously?

He pulled away from the kiss. "'Taire?"

"Mmm?" He opened one eye at the time.

"Are you in love with me?" 

Grantaire made a choking sound, like someone just cut off access to his lungs. "That's.... that's a hell of a question."

"... so?"

"What?"

"Are you in love with me?"

He watched as Grantaire's face flushed. It was such a nice color to coordinate with all of the snow. "Uh, well, yeah. I'm kind of... I'm kind of surprised you're asking."

He blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Well, everyone else in the ABC thinks it's obvious."

"You're kidding." Enjolras huffed. He sat up, and glanced back at the sky. Was he a complete idiot?

"Don't be mad." Grantaire said, propping himself up on his elbow in the snow. "To be fair, I never wanted you to know anyways. Especially not like this." He used his hands to gesture to around. Enjolras sighed.

"Sorry about that."

"No no no! Don't apologize, dont-" Grantaire absentmindedly licked his lips. "Don't apologize."

Enjolras stared at his lips. How could he do that so sexually? How was one little 19 year old capable of doing that? "You're in love with me?"

Grantaire's face scrunched up. "Ugh, that sounds so cheesy, but yes."

"Good. 'Cause then I can do this." Enjolras pushed him back in the snow, reconnecting their lips. his cold fingers pressed against Grantaire's cheek, and he felt Grantaire's hands gently resting on the small of his back. His lips were intoxicating, and he smelt like cinnamon and, oddly enough, paint. But it was crazy attractive, nonetheless. He couldn't help himself, he drifted away from Grantaire's lips and started kissing down his jaw.

"W-what are you do....oh." He let out an exasperated breath, making Enjolras chuckle. He was so immersed in the smooth and soft skin of Grantaire's face, he didn't even realize how inappropriate this probably was. He kissed every spot on his neck and chin and jawline and even behind his ear.

"You should.... shave..... more.. often." He said in between kisses.

"D-Duly noted." Grantaire's voice was shaking. He moaned. "Enj. Enjolras. Enjolras Enjolras." He muttered in a cluster, pushing Enjolras just nearly an inch away from him. "No doubt that I want to continue this.." Grantaire glanced down at his lips, and then blinked like he was having a hard time focusing. "But, I feel like if we go any further, we might cross some lines of the public indecency law."

"Right.... Right!" Enjolras said sitting up. He made it to his feet and brushed some of the snow off of himself. He thought for a moment. "Hot chocolate?"

Grantaire rested his head back in the snow, looking slightly disappointed. "Uh yeah, okay."

"In bed." Enjolras added with a smirk, offering a hand to him. Grantaire perked up, a bit surprised.

"Much better."

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So what with the blizzard of 2016, I decided to write a lil fic attaining to it. I hope you enjoyed it! I might come back at some point and fix it up a bit.


End file.
